We Broke Everything
by Ghost-Phage
Summary: In which a man named Adam boards the helicarrier only to have his ass repeatedly handed to him. Adam really doesn't like working with the Avengers, but he'll toughen up. Or Natasha will force him to toughen up. Either or. Takes place during/after movie.
1. Chapter 1

Nervously, the man rolls onto the balls of his feet, displaying his ever-present anxiety. '_There are too many people_,' he thinks to himself, his blue slits for eyes darting back and forth as he begins to walk across the platform.

Though his hands are shoved deep in his pant pockets, he still picks at the rough skin around his thumbnails and then—only for a moment—removes his now clammy palms to bite the loose skin around the nail as sort of a nervous habit.

He's only dressed in a grey t-shirt and black jeans whose color was being slowly rubbed off. His casual attire contrasts with that of the workers around him, further singling him out as a foreigner.

Quickly, but unexcitedly, he follows a man in a suit down the hall. He sneezes as the man turns to tell him something.

"What?" the first man asks, wiping his nose on his wrist and then snorting unintentionally.

"Just making sure you're still following," the man in the suit replies with a sigh, turning away from the tall—out of place—man to continue down the hall.

The fluorescent lights beat down on the two men as they weave and navigate through a crew of workers. The end of the hall opens up into a huge lobby or sorts; the floor below lined with row after row of computers.

He yawns and scratches the back of his head, still anxious but also completely uninterested.

The man in the suit opens his mouth as if to speak, but is interrupted by a greater presence in the room.

"Mr. Knox," the man turns; black trench coat waving in dark contrast to the nearly blinding sunlight cascading in from the wall of windows behind him. His voice is powerful.

"Adam," the other man replies, no real change in his voice. "I'm not a professor, you know that. I still go by Adam."

"Mr. Knox," the black-trench coat man continues, completely ignoring Adam's request to be addressed by his first name, "I wish we had time for idle chit-chat, but you were brought here to do a job which, I'm very certain, you're quite capable of handling."

Though not trying to be disrespectful, Adam snorts. "Your men shoved their badges in my face first thing in the morning. The sun had barely come up. You haven't even told me what job I'm supposed to be doing."

"Mr. Knox, are you not an engineer? Are you not capable of handling a job handed to you on a moments notice?" the trench-coat man continues in an intimidating tone, approaching Adam with his hands firmly behind his back.

Adam doesn't blink.

Faces twisted into a scowl, the two proceed to have a staring contest.

"Sorry, Fury," Adam begins laughing in an unexpected twist. "I can't look you in the eye. You know that."

Director Fury squints his one eye at Adam, who's trying desperately not to laugh. "You know why you're aboard this aircraft, though."

"I've got a hunch," Adam rolls his eyes, slowly ceasing his laughter. "I'm just not all that thrilled to be sticking around. Last time I was aboard, you almost got me killed, if I remember correctly."

Fury turns back to his post, staring out the great window in front of them. "You just had to learn the hard way, Knox."

Adam sighs and gives up the futile fighting. "What'll I be fixing for you today, Director Fury."

"There's a cooling agent stationed near each of the ships rotors," Fury begins to explain something Adam already knew, bringing up a diagram on one of his monitors. "The one stationed near engine two spontaneously ruptured the other day, and the man we'd usually call to fix these sorts of problems is… not available at the moment."

"Stark?" Adam sneers.

Fury acknowledges Adam's displeasure, but makes no gesture in response. "You helped build this ship; we need you to fix her. If we don't fix it—"

"The engine will overheat. Yeah, I know," Adam rudely cuts Fury off. "People only seem to remember me when they need a favor. Stark, Richards and Forge designed the helicarrier and left the grunt work to me. But you know what, I like it better this way. After the disaster with the Titans Initiative, I'm glad no one tries to contact me."

"Still sore about the Titans, of all things," Fury gives him the privilege of receiving a solid glare from his one good eye.

"Oh no, I hear you've already replaced us with something new. The Avengers? Is that what you're gonna call them?" Adam mocks bitterly. "I bet no one even remembers the Titans, let alone knows we existed to start with."

"Mr. Knox, I called you aboard this ship to fix a problem and then promptly leave. While I'm exceedingly fascinated with how unpleasant your presence continues to be, I would like for this ship to stay in the air and will put up with you as long as it takes for that task to be accomplished."

Adam squints, a bad taste forming in his mouth. He wants to say something else to Fury, but doesn't think he can manage without losing his temper. "I can find it on my own," Adam finally says, turning away from the spy and exiting the big room.

* * *

'_This is dumb_,' Adam think to himself as he trudges his way through a small crowd. He looks ahead at the halls teeming with researchers and agents and tries to remember a time when this place was ever so full. Never during his stay at S.H.I.E.L.D had so many people been aboard at one time, but he guesses that's because he was on board before S.H.I.E.L.D really had a foothold in the security and enforcement business just a few years back. Sure, they'd been around for years, but Adam guesses that they'd only recently begun to take a supreme interest in affairs otherwise considered 'superhuman.'

For a moment, Adam loses himself in the whitewashed walls and, though he knows where he's going, he can't seem to remember what he's doing.

That is, until a shock of red hair jolts him from his stupor.

She walks past briskly, moving confidently but also elegantly. For a moment, he can only see the hair and it's like someone set fire to the whole ship. He drifts towards her on accident and the two bump into each others arms. He was surprised by how much power she put into her stride; he's not a small guy and she managed to give him a good nudge.

"Sorry," he apologizes half-heartedly, get a better look at her face and not just her hair. He shoots her an investigative look, which she quickly recognizes.

"Do I know you?" she states simply, her face expressionless.

"Hmm? No," he stutters, suddenly taken aback for no particular reason. "Sorry, your uh… your hair reminded me of someone I know, er, knew."

Adam very rarely gets choked up. It's not in his nature to be startled; he just hadn't seen red hair like that in a long time.

"Well enough then," she nods, perhaps a hint of confusion in the shake of her head. She turns and leaves, not batting another eye in his direction.

Almost immediately after, Adam forgets the girl and continues down the hall; hands clenched tightly in his pockets.

After some maneuvering, he finally retreats into the deeper crevices of the helicarrier to a set of halls that hadn't been accessed in maybe months, maybe more. The walls are lined with piping and wiring; steam jettisoning from varying holes and gaps in valves. The grating beneath his feet groans as he shuffles across.

Near the end of the hall is where Adam finds the problem. A piece of the cooler had ruptured nearly fifteen feet above him and was covering the better half of the hall with steam, leaking fluid everywhere.

"Any old mechanic could have fixed this," Adam grumbles to himself, slightly pissed that he'd been dragged aboard the ship for such a trivial repair.

"Well, it's not that simple," a voice echoes from behind him.

Adam turns slowly, a sigh escaping him. He's not unnerved. "Why's that, Coulson?"

The man in the suit smiles—slightly off-kilter—and then takes another step towards Adam, but remains bounds away from him. "That steam is at more than at boiling temperature. Any other mechanic we could call couldn't take a step closer to that stuff than where I'm standing know, which is a good twenty feet away from the actual cooler; more if you count the distance from the ground."

Adam sneers again. He could guess he'd be doing a lot of that during his stay. "I shoulda known Fury needed somethin' from the Titan."

"Had Stark been available, we wouldn't need your assistance but…."

"Yeah, I get it," Adam grumbles. If there's one that he hates, it's being used, especially when it involves the Titan. He slurs his speech slightly when he's pissed. "Jus' lemme do my work so I can leave."

Adam turns back to the cooler and the powerful spray of steam pouring out of it. He cracks his neck and tries to imagine "the good old times," but the memory comes out slightly bitter. With a deep breath seated in his chest, he focuses on his ability he hadn't utilized in ages, almost since he'd left S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place.

From his palms, dark enamel—a shell of sorts—begins to cover his skin. He's raising the levels of carbon in his body, careful not to let it run wild like all those times before. The carbon coating is a dark grey, rising up his arms, across his chest, and then over his face until his entire body is covered.

He exhales and takes a step forward; his carbon coated body now unaffected by the boiling temperatures. He swipes a tool case from the corner of the grated floor and then effortlessly leaps up to the rupture; grabbing hold of the pipe in one hand, wrench in the other, with the tool case carefully balanced on his propped up knee.

"So you've met Agent Romanoff?" Coulson continues to make small talk to keep Adam entertained.

"The red-head?" he assumes. "I wouldn't say we met, we just brushed into each other in the hall."

"Hmm, alright then. I thought you'd had more of an encounter; she wants to see the files from the Titan project."

"Does she now?" Adam grunts, shoving his arm deep into a crevice in the wall to feel around for a set of wires. "I wonder where she even heard of the Titan initiative."

"She's a spy, Adam. It' her job to figure these sorts of things out."

"And I'm sure now the rest of the Avengers'll be digging into my story now huh?"

"You think you'll be on the ship long enough for them to take an interest?"

"I sure as hell hope not," he grunts, ramming his shoulder into the pipe that was projecting from the rest of the pipes.

Steam stops spurting from the pipe seconds later, leaving Adam relieved, though he'd never exhibit such an emotion. He drops to his feet and waits a second for the carbon coating to recede. It takes a moment, which forces his heart to jump a beat faster, but it eventually fades. Lucky, he guesses.

Coulson approaches him, the steam now clear, most likely to congratulate him on a job well done, when the ship rears to the side; a loud explosion can be heard from across the ship.

"You got be shittin' me," Adam shouts, exasperated. "I'm gonna have to fix that too, aren't I?"

* * *

**AN: So i'm pretty nervous about this fic because the first chapter mainly centers around my OC, but I promise that the Avengers will be in a LOT more to come. I appreciate all readers and reviewers, because the length and continuity of this story depend on you. I've added tidbits of information from the comics, but it's mostly centered around the movie. Also, I have this awful tendency to throw grammar and spelling out the window after 11 o'clock, so i apologize for that now. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to those of you that reviewed, because you guys make me happy. To clear some stuff up, Adam and Nat will have a fling, but it won't really be a relationship. Bruce and Adam have a bromance but-no-slash *swanky thumbs up*. There might be some subtle Bruce/Nat if you look, but i'm not entirely sure at this point. Also, in case anyone is interested, i have a facial reference sheet up for Adam on my tumblr. **

** Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Adam had been on board the helicarrier for maybe an hour and a half and he already wanted to walk out onto the deck and throw himself the thousands of feet into the ocean.

He follows closely behind Coulson—who's only slightly unhinged after the explosion—and pretends he's not in the least bit upset or unnerved. If you could see how tightly his fists are clenched together, however, you could clearly count the steps until he snaps.

"What's happening?" Coulson interrogates a passing agent.

"The ship is under attack," the agent pauses for a moment to reply, catching a breath only to continue sprinting down the hall.

"Great," Adam spits as he and Coulson return to the main room with the giant window-wall.

"Where's Fury?" Coulson asks the nearest agent; a woman dressed much like the other agents only instead of the navy skirt like most other female agents, she wore pants.

"He was in the lab when one of the engines exploded," she replies sternly with a barely audible nervous undertone.

"Loki…" Coulson mumbles.

"What?" Adam interjects. "Ah hell no! I came on this ship to fix the cooling agent, not fight one of your renegade villains."

"Hill, bring Adam up to speed. I've got something I need to take care of," Coulson says, a certain determination in his voice; turning and moving out of the room.

"Adam, I assume," Agent hill continues, grabbing Adam's arm and pulling him out of the way. "Let's keep it short and sweet; Loki is a demi-god who plans to rule the earth with a power known as the Tesseract."

"The Tesser—"

"The Tesseract, if harnessed, hold the key to unlimited power. After he obtained the cube, we discovered his plans to unleash and army on earth. We apprehended Loki hours ago, but it looks as if he's got people on the outside…."

"I can't," Adam throws his hands up. "I can't get involved in this superhero business! I just fix things—"

In the distance, another loud burst sounds, followed by a deep roar.

"The hell was that? You heard that ri—" Adam starts, turning away from agent Hill for only a moment. When he turns back to her, she's across the room looking at Fury's monitors.

"This is not good…" She whispers, a slight tinge of horror in her previously tough voice.

"What's not good?" Adam approaches, trying to sneak a peek at the monitors.

"Fury, Fury do you copy?" she radios in, ignoring Adam's question once more.

"I'm here, Hill," Fury returns; striding into the room with his pistol wrapped tightly in his palm. He has remnants of dust on his trench coat.

"Black Widow and the Hulk are on the move," Hill states immediately after he stops talking, urgency in her voice. "Sir, he'll kill her."

Adam remembers hearing about the Hulk on the news. He'd been at home and, day after day, new strings of reports about some out of control monster ran on the television. People looked at the green beast with horror; even Adam had tilted his nose up in disgust at the wreckage this thing had caused. At the same time, however, he felt a twang of pity for the creature, though he'd never admit such. The pity was mostly washed out with anger anyway.

"Adam," Fury takes Hill's words into account and then faces the very confused engineer. "All members of the Avengers available are already preoccupied. Find Black Widow and help her."

Adam stares at Fury blankly. "I'm not a part of your team."

Fury shifts his stance and puts his hands on his hips. "I'm gonna pretend those words didn't just come out of your mouth and remind you that someone's life is in danger."

"A lot of people's lives are in danger, Fury. I'd be much more suited to fixing the engine—"

"I don't think you understand," Fury squints his eye. "You can blame whatever happened in the past on me if you want, but while you're on this ship, you'll follow my commands. Now, you're the only person in the near vicinity that has the ability to rescue agent Romanoff."

"That's not true," he replies bitterly.

"It's not, but you're the only one in the near vicinity that I can yell at to hurry his ass up."

Adam glares at Fury, but Fury had always been better at stare-downs.

"Fine," Adam gives up. "But this doesn't make me a part of your team."

Turning away from the control center and the big window, Adam begins to jog out of the room. After he's a decent ways out, he picks up speed as he searches for the one agent Romanoff.

* * *

Agent Hill had not clarified exactly where Romanoff and the Hulk were currently moving, so it was mostly just a guessing game on his part; asking the random agent where the wreckage was occurring. After some time, he could tell he was getting close by the dull roar growing louder and louder.

Though he was not particularly enthused about having to return to fighting, there was a tight knot forming in his chest regarding the fate of agent Romanoff. The way he'd seen her in the hall… she'd had a look of bitter determination in her eyes. There was something else as well, though he guessed he'd have to see her again to find out what it was.

That was something else that tugs at his heart. Though he'd nearly refused to cooperate when Fury had asked for his help, Adam by no means wants the Widow to get killed or hurt.

Somewhere ahead of him, the sound of metal being ripped from the wall sounds; easily audible. He sprints in that direction, bursting around a corner to find the Black Widow sitting on the ground with her knees clenched tightly to her body. Off to her side is a massive hole in the wall.

"Are you alright?" He approaches the quivering spy, making an effort to be sympathetic by kneeling down next to her.

"I'm… I'll be fine," she nods.

"You're not bleeding… what's wrong?"

"It's just a few ribs," she stares at him, breathing erratic but face completely stern.

He furrows his brow. He didn't like looking at this woman, this 'Black Widow.' She looks too much like _her,_ and it may or may not have hurt Adam's heart to look at agent Romanoff.

"I'll be alright," she insists. "Go help Thor. He just tackled… he just tackled the Hulk through that hole in the wall."

"Thor?"

"A demi-god," she explains.

"Like Loki?"

"His brother, actually. He's the god of thunder… but even he might have some trouble with Br—I mean—the Hulk."

Adam turns his head, hearing the sound of crashing and bodies slamming against concrete and metal. He looks back to agent Romanoff for a moment and then nods, turning away quickly after.

Adam rises to his feet and takes a deep breath. Romanoff looks at him in confusion as he forces a rise in the level of carbon in his body, this time restricting the spread to just cover his arms. He cracks his knuckles as the dark shell stops expanding.

"I'm assuming you've got this under control then," Romanoff states. She must adjust to change very well.

Adam swallows hard at her remark, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He clenches his fists again to get it under control. Had the carbon shell not been as tough as diamonds, he would have pierced the skin off his palms with his claw-like nails.

He jumps through the hole prepared for a fight.

Several planes are scattered about, one in particular with a wing ripped from its side. Adam scans the room just as the green goliath and the one he assumes is Thor stumble into the middle of the floor. Thor has a hammer wrapped around the monsters neck.

For a second, Adam doesn't know what to do with himself. He'd fought robots and beasts just as big if not bigger before, but he hadn't done so in so long… he doesn't remember how he used to do it.

The Hulk grabs Thor's forearms, his thick musculature tensing as he wrenches Thor from his back and onto the floor. The blonde demi-god makes a weak swing with his hammer as the Hulk plows his face into the concrete. Thor's head is half a foot deep when Adam finally realizes he needs to step in.

The Hulk swings again as Thor tries to rise again and again. His next strike is cut short when Adam and his newfound determination step in. He catches the flying fist with all his strength and manages to hold up the Hulk's one arm with his two. With a grunt and the mass of his strength, he manages to hold the Hulks fist back with one hand long enough to adjust the level of carbon in his arms, force a blade to jettison from his forearm, and stab the hulk in the bicep. After that, he falls back to the ground.

Adam pants hard and realizes he just put in his best effort and the Hulk was still fine and kicking; only a shallow cut left on his arm. It gives Thor enough time to escape, however.

"You fight along side me!" Thor exclaims, taking Adam's side. "Like a native of Asgard!"

"Look…" Adam pants. "I'm not a hero… I just wanna go home…"

"We must contain the beast first," Thor continues, somehow not nearly as tired as Adam.

The Hulk turns to face the two of them after their brief moment to regain composure. Thor raises his hammer and Adam reluctantly bares the blades on his arms in preparation for another assault.

Thor attacks first; charging the Hulk head on while Adam opts to slide behind him, slashing as hard as he can into the Hulk's thick skin. It only leaves a small cut.

The constant attacks persist from Adam and Thor, and Adam begins to wonder how he'd ever fought this hard when he was still a part of the Titan's Initiative. He tries to shake off those thoughts and continues fighting, trying to keep pace with an ever-in-motion Thor.

Hulk swings backwards and knocks Adam off his feet, sending him around twenty feet backwards into a plane's windshield. It's there that he decides he never wants to be a superhero. Ever.

He slowly pries himself from the glass and winces as he hears the crash of rubble and the ceiling above him shaking. He scans the room for Thor and the Hulk, only to realize that they'd launched themselves upwards and into the room above the hangar.

"I'm not going up there," he mutters to himself, face distorting in pain as he tugs bits of glass and scrap metal from his back. The carbon shell had protected his arms, but he hadn't thought to protect his back, or the rest of his body for that matter, with the protective coating. Right about now he's wishing dearly that he had thought to do so; his back would be bloody and scraped for a while.

"He can handle himself…" he assures himself as he wanders back to the hole he'd entered the hangar through. "He is a god after all."

Practically falling through the hole, Adam realizes that agent Romanoff is no longer propped up against the wall, clenching her knees. Thinking about her hobbling away from where she had previously rested reminds Adam of his weariness, and he's a step away from collapsing when he reminds himself that even though he hates everything about this ship, he still needs to help the people on board.

Even if he hates them too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Whoop whoop chapter 3. I'm actually excited to get into these later chapters because i can finally start focusing on Adam's relationship with the other characters. This is where it starts getting good, i suppose. Once again, thanks for reviewing. I love you guys like my children. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Adam stumbles back into the hallways, trying to ignore the headache slowly rolling in.

"What happened to me?" he mutters under his breath, placing a cold carbon hand to his temple. "I can't even take a hit anymore."

Ahead he notices Coulson walking against the concentration gradient of agents towards him; some strange, sleek, black gun type thing held firmly in his hands.

"Coulson… what the hell is that?" Adam eyes the weapon when Coulson was near enough.

"Not important. They need you on the deck. Take this," he replies simply but stressed, handing a small communicator over to Adam.

"I'm so tired," Adam admits, eyes half shut as he half-heartedly fits the com into his ear. "This was supposed to be a simple repair and it's turned into a fucking nightmare."

"It's not as if the event was planned, Mr. Knox. But they do need your help—"

In the distance, another explosion blasts. Muted compared to the first, but still an explosion.

"I feel like I'm knee deep in superhero bullshit…" Adam says with an exaggerated sigh, turning to run to the place where the explosion sounded.

"You could have been an Avenger…you have the chance to be a hero—"

"I'm not an Avenger and I'm not a superhero! I'm just an engineer!" Adam shouts as he sprints towards the explosion.

He charges past agents and they pay him no heed. Maybe one or two of them even notice his body, an amalgamation of carbon and flesh, but he supposes that they've seen stranger.

He makes a beeline back to the main hall, but as he approaches, he notices several agents taking up a position at one of the entrances to the room. They've got rifles poised steady, firing shots into the room only to have another's bullets fired back. Two fall before Adam figures they're not friendly to S.H.I.E.L.D.

He approaches one of the men from behind and takes a hold of him by his collar, slamming his elbow down on the bridge of the man's nose and tossing him to the floor. Another one of the gunmen is too distracted by the rumble of his rifle to notice Adam striding casually up behind him and promptly flinging his head against the wall.

"You're under attack," Adam says blandly, strolling into the room; unamused.

"Thank you for pointing out something we all already know," Fury gripes, firing his pistol at another renegade trying to make his way into the control center.

"But I see you've got this all under control," Adam continues, sarcasm dripping from his tongue like venom. "Because I sure have am having a hell of a time."

"Mr. Knox, would you please refrain from being a smartass."

Adam snorts and turns his attention to the other hallway leading into the room. It too was flooding with rogue agent after agent trying to force their way in to no avail. They weren't getting in so what the hell did they think they were doing…?

Adam's reflexes are barely fast enough to notice an arrow, carefully targeted, sailing into one of the rows of computers. Fury follows its line of fire back to the origin, but the shooter is no longer there.

Seconds later, the hull begins to capsize in mid-air, keeling to one size.

"Another engine is offline," Agent Hill calls across the platform. Distress ensues.

"Stark better hurry up and fix that engine or we won't be in the air for much longer," Fury grumbles sternly.

"Stark?" Adam turns after having knocked a black-clothed intruder to the floor. "Stark is on board?"

"He and Captain America are attempting to fix the other damaged engine—"

"If Stark is on board than why did I have to come here in the first place?" Adam shouts, furious.

"Up until the time of the attack, Stark was busy dealing with more pressing matters," Fury tries to explain.

"So pressing that he couldn't be taken away from them to fix a simple problem? I could still be at home now!"

"Mr. Knox, I am aware that you are unhappy, but I'm going to have to ask you to stop shouting and focus at the more important task at hand."

Adam pants and grits his teeth. His short temper is boiling over and he can't find the lid to top it. He had boarded the helicarrier out of generosity (and maybe a little bit of money too), but he'd previously sworn to himself that he'd never ride one of these ships again; so being here is a great feat in itself.

"I'll try and fix the other engine," Adam finally gives in, storming off in the opposite direction before he starts shouting at Fury again.

* * *

As it turns out—which he would have noticed had he not been so busy being angry at Fury—there was nothing wrong with the other engine that had stopped running. The rotors are perfectly fine; it was the fact that the helicarrier had been hacked that had stopped them from spinning.

Adam doesn't waste time getting into the paneling. More worried about the ship falling than the aesthetics of it, he rakes the metal guards and rips them from the wall, exposing the wiry flesh beneath the beast. He's almost done rewiring when the communicator beeps.

"The other engine is back online," Fury starts solemnly.

"That's great," Adam spits. "And I went through all the trouble to get this one worki—"

"Coulson is down."

Adam sits quietly for a second, as if Fury had just made him the butt of a joke. "You've got the paramedics right? He's going to be ok—"

"They called it."

The communicator buzzes for a moment and then falls silent. Adam slides onto the floor and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Damn it…" he mumbles to himself. Coulson had been an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. when Adam had first rode on this vessel. In fact, Coulson was the one to bring him on board when he was still excited about being considered a hero. A time when he still enjoyed having powers.

Adam looks at his grey carbon hands and sighs. They seemingly ball themselves into fists and the enamel coating begins to recede. A fact dawns upon him.

"I fucked up."

* * *

"And what happens now?" Fury asks a table only consisting of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. Adam stands off to the side with his arms folded, propped up against the guardrail. The question sounded semi-rhetorical; mocking even.

He tries his best to flush Fury's voice out and only focuses on the others faces. He'd just moments ago met Rogers, the one and only Captain America, and though brief, he could imagine being at least acquaintances with the super soldier.

Stark, on the other hand, was a wholly different story.

This was not their first meeting. In fact, it was only one of many, but he wasn't surprised when he walked into the control room and Stark barely recognized him. Why would he remember the guy that built half the ship? Why would he remember the guy that rode the ship for the better half of three years as part of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.S failed initiatives?

"We should have known this team thing wasn't going to work," Stark says abruptly. "I mean facts are facts. What happened to the first team you tried to start, Fury?"

Fury and Adam both eye Tony as he makes random gestures with his hands.

"Do you know the definition of insanity?" Tony continues, eyes shut as if everyone else's lower IQ is putting him to sleep. "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. When the first team blew up, why would you think another one would be a success?"

"The Titan's Initiative was a closed incident," Fury starts, sounding bored. Adam rolls his eyes loudly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Rogers begins. "What was the Titan's Initiative? I've only heard of it just now…"

"The Titans were Fury's way of enforcing S.H.I.E.L.D. ideals under the disguise of protection for all citizens. It didn't work," Tony continues, knowing all about the Titans considering the fact that he was around when it was first instated.

Fury stares at Stark menacingly, "The Titan's were the prototype Avengers. They were four people with certain skillsets that made them the perfect team to fight the battles that we never could."

"Oh because bringing together a group of emotionally unstable humans with powers was the perfect way to protect mankind," Stark adds.

"What happened to them?" Rogers insists.

"I'll tell you what happened," Stark interjects before anyone else can get a word in. "One of them was arrested only to break out of jail and kill numerous people—still on the loose, by the way—another commit suicide, and another was killed trying to save Mr. Knox over here."

Adam cringes, having trouble holding his tongue. Stark continues:

"Asteria, the only non-powered human in the group, was the original master assassin. She lost her marbles after a mission gone wrong and went on to kill and maim a small population in Poughkeepsie. No one knows where she is today.

Then there's Cronos, a boy with the ability to jump moments into the future or past. One time, he jumped too far and got stuck in a time loop for five hundred years. When he got back, he commit suicide to prevent it from ever happening again.

And then there was Leto, the fire breather. She was a sent to rescue Knox when he got in over his head and was promptly killed. Did she deserve it? No. She was the only one in the group who wasn't mentally unstable and she was the last block to come tumbling down—"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Adam finally growls.

"You didn't care about your team," Stark provokes. "You cared about yourself."

"Oh, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you," Adam tenses. "You only ever cared about yourself."

"And then you let it weigh you down. You gave up on everything because these people were gone. If you cared so little, why'd you let it ruin you?"

"Because I did care! And I don't see why you continue to insist otherwise!"

"Right, I forgot," Tony replies coolly. "It wasn't the team you cared about, it was Leto. What was she to you?"

"She was my wife."

"Then why are you sulking? What do you think she would have wanted for you to do? Live in a puddle of self-pity for the rest of your life?"

"I can't believe the words coming out of your mouth! What do you do? Do you just pull your faux wisdom out of your ass? Who do you think you are to talk to me?"

Not waiting for an answer, he storms out of the room, leaving the others in the dust. He hears silence from the room for a moment, and then Fury continuing with "These were found in Agent Coulson's pocket…"

Who did Stark think he was to tell him how to live his life? To tell him to just get over Vanessa like that? She was his wife, his everything, and he'd let her get killed running to his rescue. She'd died paying for one of his dumb mistakes.

He has nowhere to go, so he begins to meander about the halls. Mind elsewhere, he—once again—runs into Agent Romanoff in the halls as she's sliding out of a room.

"Sorry," he says even less enthusiastically than their first meeting.

"It's nothing," she nods.

"You were coming out of there very secretively," he points out; still no hint of emotion other than frustration in his voice.

"It was unintentional," she responds just as emotionless. "A friend of mine is in there and the crew is still getting… used to him."

"Where are you off to now?" he continues making idle chitchat.

"I was going to the mess hall to get lunch for my friend and maybe a coffee."

Adam squints again to examine her face. She has hair the color of devil's food and he distinctly remembers liking devil's food.

And she does so remind him of his wife.

"I'll join you then," he replies, a new intrigue piqued. "I could use a coffee while I wait to get off this deathtrap."


	4. Chapter 4

**Awesome, it's chapter four! This one's kinda short and fluffy. It's setting up for big stuff to happen in upcoming chapters. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Agent Romanoff, though an assassin first and socialite thirty-second, makes for at least decent conversation.

She walks alongside Adam to the mess hall and agents running about in a flurry after the recent attack on the helicarrier surround the two. He notices that she carries herself tall and the sea of people parts for her. Adam notices he's slouching and immediately rectifies the problem, trying to look at least presentable.

"You don't have to tell me anything," she starts, out of the blue. "I've already read your case file."

Adam winces at the thought, though he's not sure why. "Well, I guess that makes this less awkward, at least."

She laughs slightly, only one small hiccup escaping her. He smiles unintentionally.

"You wouldn't mind me asking you a few questions though, would you?" he insists, trying to disguise the hopefulness in his eyes.

"Depends on what those questions are," she responds casually and with a nod of her head as if to signal him to go.

"Well, I mean," Adam starts of awkwardly, not having actually thought out a question to ask her. "I've just sort of been calling you Agent Romanoff. Do you have a first name, Agent Romanoff?"

"Natasha," she replies simply.

"Natasha," Adam repeats. He likes the sound of it.

"Any other questions then?" she asks after Adam goes silent for a moment.

"Well, not you, per say," he fumbles, trying to think of the right words. "Would you care to tell me the names of all the Avengers? Besides Stark, of course." The name Stark makes him gag a little.

"I'm assuming you've already met Thor," she begins as the two round a corner.

"Yes, obviously. Where'd he go? I haven't seen him since the battle with the Hulk…"

"He was, uh, he was jettisoned from the ship."

"Jettisoned? So is he… alive or…?"

"He's a demi-god, after all. I'm sure he survived."

"And the rest of the team?"

She tightens up a bit at the mention of the word 'team,' but quickly recovers; "Well, you met the super soldier already."

"Yeah, Rogers," Adam nods, remembering his brief encounter with Steve earlier. "He's a nice guy. Real stand-up. Kept callin' me sir but I could get used to it. Who was your very vague friend back there?"

"Uh…" she pauses for a moment as the two finally reach the mess hall and enter it. It's almost completely empty. "That was Agent Barton."

"Agent Barton? Anything else yah… you can tell me?" Adam coughs. His speech was slurring again against his will. He'd have to watch it better.

Romanoff releases another small laugh, like a quick exhalation of air. Adam hides a blush under olive skin.

"Agent Barton is known as Hawkeye. Clint, er, Barton, is a pretty sharp shooter with a bow and arrow, I guess you could say."

"Why's the crew nervous about him then?" Adam interrogates, taking a Styrofoam cup from off a rack and moving over to a coffee machine.

"Up until the attack on the ship, Barton had been… compromised," she tries to explain, specifically excluding a mass of detail.

"Compromised?" Adam questions, filling up his cup slowly and stopping once it was only three-quarters full.

"It's awfully confusing, especially if you weren't around to get introduced to Loki," she sighs, taking a small plastic container from under a heat lamp. It looked like a pre-packaged lunch, though he could not tell the contents.

"Yeah, what's that guy's deal anyway? Brother of Thor or something? Agent Hill tried to explain it to mean but it was awfully rushed," he continues, sipping at the hot coffee. He'd left it black not because he didn't like putting anything in it but because he actually couldn't find the packets of sugar and creamer. He'd searched around for a bit and felt stupid when he couldn't locate them. He tried to hide the embarrassment with another sip.

"Just another man with something to prove," she says with a sigh, passing Adam a small tub filled with fixings for the coffee. He accepts them awkwardly and pretends that he hadn't even been looking for them. "Just another villain trying to take over the world."

Adam steps aside as she too plucks a Styrofoam cup from the rack and fills it. She tears the tops off several packets of sugar as Adam waits idly by. Then she gently blows on the surface and Adam can't help but watch. Her lips are not that of an assassin. In fact, her face is not the face of an assassin. It's soft and round and he wonders how her face has remained undamaged over the years.

"I guess we'll be heading back now then," she knocks him from his stupor, taking hold of the small plastic container in one hand and the Styrofoam cup in the other.

He nods for a lack of words.

"Aside from Stark, there is one more person I forgot to mention… though I don't know if we'll be seeing him again…" Natasha mutters, taking a quiet sip of her coffee as the two begin their journey back to where they started.

"Really?" Adam remarks, also taking a drink from his cup. The burning liquid should singe his tongue but he'd grown a high tolerance to heat. "I guess I haven't met 'em yet then."

"Well, I guess you did. But only technically," she continues with her usual vagueness.

"I 'ave? Musta bumped into 'em in the hall or somethin'."

A faint smile grows on Natasha's face. Adam looks at her, confused for a moment but then realizes the reason why.

"I don't know what's up with me today," his cheeks turn red. "I, ah, I don't even know where I picked the accent up from."

"It's endearing, at least," she assures him, hiding her face in her cup to hide a smile.

"Ha, not really," he shakes his head. "But you were saying something about another guy. Continue."

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this," her tone becomes serious once more. "I'm not usually so…"

"Giddy?" he provides.

"Positive," she replaces his input for her own. "Especially considering how serious everything is right now with Loki on the loose trying to take over the world and what not."

"You don't have a right to smile?" he asks, feeling a bit like a hypocrite. Immediately after, he feels like a dumbass for saying anything.

"Not know, at least," she sighs again. "But no, you asked me something."

"Uh yeah," he responds to her casual subject change. He could tell she wasn't used to being happy about anything and it probably made her uncomfortable so he might as well drop it. "Who was the other guy on your te—I mean, who was the other guy you forgot to mention?"

"You probably know him as the Hulk."

"The Hulk is one of you guys?" he says, so surprised that he actually spits coffee on himself. His face is burning hotter than the coffee but he doesn't think she's all too interested in humor anymore.

"Not the Hulk," she continues, "Bruce Banner is—or maybe was—one of us."

She stutters at the mention of his name and Adam suddenly remembers what she'd said earlier when he'd gone to save her the first time. The master assassin was actually afraid of something. She was in her right mind, of course, Adam himself had been scared, but he was still slightly surprised by this revelation. Like he'd expected her to be totally fearless.

"But I don't think we'll be seeing him again soon… if at all…" Her lip quivers and she tries to cover it with a sip of her coffee. Adam still notices.

"So you're saying that that thing is an actual person? Like, he's not just that monster?" he words awkwardly.

"Of course he's an actual person," she snaps at him. "He's one of the smartest men I've ever met. He just…"

"Just happens to turn into a giant, destructive force of nature?"

She glares at him, as if she's offended on Banner's behalf. "I've read your file, Adam. I know you're not always in control of your actions either."

Adam stares at her blankly, still in shock that she'd mentioned anything. "Yeah, I know. I try not to think about it."

"I didn't mean it like that," she recants, "Just that… people aren't always in control of their actions, but that doesn't mean they aren't good people."

Adam nods half-heartedly as the two reach the room that he'd bumped into her coming out of.

"I'll just… I'll leave here," she states, cracking to door open.

With a lack of enthusiasm, he picks his head up and down. She eyes him for a second and then abandons him in the hall.

He stands there for a moment before turning to sulk back to the control center. Why'd he have to say any of that? Why was he so consistently an asshole? He goes into things with good intentions; he knows that, so why can he never communicate with other people?

"Mr. Knox, nice of you to return," Fury greets Adam's entrance to the control center.

"Where's my suit?" Adam suddenly asks.

Fury turns around to face him, confused for a moment. "Your suit?"

"You know the one I'm talking about," he continues, suddenly determined.

Fury flashes a smile. "Yeah, I know where it is. Why the sudden interest?"

"Show me where and I'll explain."

"Right this way then."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 is up! I'm pretty busy with school and stuff, so sorry the spaces inbetween the chapters are a bit spread out. I'll try and be more efficient in the future. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

"I've been out of the game for too long…" Adam sighs to Fury. "So I don't think I'll be getting back in any time soon but…"

"You talk as if you've been gone for decades," Fury responds, arms folded behind his back as he guides Adam down the halls.

"I'm twenty-nine," Adam continues, swirling the quickly cooling coffee in his hand with a gentle twirling motion. "I think I jumped off the 'super-hero bandwagon' when I was twenty-four."

"Five years is not a lifetime, Mr. Knox."

"A lot's happened between then and now… but…" Adam sips the coffee, trying to find words to express what he wanted to say. "I dunno. What I'm plan to do next contradicts everything I told myself I wouldn't do."

"I have this gut feeling it'll be for the better," Fury nods, as if he'd known all along.

Fury had promised Adam he knew where his suit was, and after an adventure to one of the helicarrier's storage room, he delivers. There's a huge steel case stacked on top of several smaller cases towards the back of the small warehouse. Fury drags it down and cracks it open.

"Ha, never thought I'd see these again," Adam grins, placing the Styrofoam cup of coffee off on a shelf to be forgotten later. "You… you saved all four?"

"Just in case."

Adam nods and examines the contents of the case further. Four different costumes—some featuring weapons and some with gadgets and what not—are lined up in a row, carefully folded and separated. Though Adam should be looking at his own suit, his eyes can't help drift towards the dark purple leotard on the end. The material looks like shiny leather, maybe spandex, but he knows it's not. He knows it's actually a special material designed to be fireproof.

"Still not sure why you kept all four costumes," Adam mutters, tone moderately depressed. "Vanessa and Tim are both dead. It's not like they'll be needing them…."

"Leto and Cronos could have successors one day."

Adam scoffs at the idea. He also isn't too fond of how Fury addresses them by their superhero name and not their actual name. Adam pretends it doesn't bother him and scoops up his uniform from the box. Taking the clothes under his left arm and smaller accessories in his right hand, he distinctly remembers them weighing less.

* * *

Fury leaves Adam in a small room with a bed and bathroom to get changed. For only a moment, Fury pries as to what his grand plan was, but frankly, Adam didn't know. He figured he could get into uniform and the rest would follow suit.

He strips slowly; his lower back is aching and he laughs at himself. He feels like an old man in a young man's body.

He returns to the bedside where he'd placed his uniform—still neatly folded—on the sheets. He'd kicked his boots off and under the bed and had already loosened the belt on his pants to slide out of them. He grabs the black, cargo pant-esque, military styled pants from the bottom of the clothes pile and bends over to pull them up. He feels a minor sting on his back from the cuts he'd received earlier.

There's a mirror in the bathroom, a tall, narrow one; so that he can see his entire torso. He's got the remainder of some debris still scattered throughout his sepia tone brown hair. With one hand, he quickly brushes it out of the crew cut.

He tosses his shirt onto the bed and begins examining the cuts on his back from his fight with the Hulk as best he can. As far as he can tell, they'd closed and would eventually fade to a section of silver, raised skin, and then dissolve into nothing. The fact that he can increase the levels of carbon in his body allows him to accelerate the process of healing by speeding up it's conversion to carbon dioxide, but he's got such poor control over it, he can barely heal a few cuts.

And he can't heal scars. Trust him, he's tried.

He tries to count them and how he got them. There's one across his collarbone that he thinks came from London and that one assassin; another down by his pelvis that was definitely from that woman in Tokyo. There's another across his bicep that he'd accidentally given to himself when his power first manifested itself. They're all just pink, slightly raised and barely visible scars. They don't really mean anything.

He steps back to the bed and pulls the dual-layered vest over his chest; zipping it up the middle and leaving his arms bare. The top layer of the vest is a dark, stormy turquoise color while the latter is a simple dark grey. He's still not sure where the color choice came from.

There's a tan colored harness and belt on the bed that he also buckles on; attached are small packs that are usually used to hold small knives, lock picks, etc.

He sits down on the bed and begins lacing up the uniform's set of boots when a knock sounds on the door.

"Come in," he grumbles loud enough for the person to hear.

"Fury told me I could find you here," Natasha stands in the doorway.

"And you're looking for me because?"

"I'm collecting everyone that's left to fight Loki's army. And I see you've already suited up…" She shifts to the other side of the doorway. "We could use your help."

"Just because I've got my uniform on doesn't mean I'm prepared to help you save the world."

"Then why are you… why are you putting the suit on?" She stands up straight, watching as Adam fidgets with another strap, this one fitting around his left bicep.

"I'm goin' to find you someone that can help. I'm suiting up because I dunno if I'm gonna get into a fight."

"You don't mean… you mean Banner?"

"That's his name, right? The Hulk? Fury told me in the halls about what happened after I left the fight."

"I don't think he'll be joining us," she snorts. "I think I'd feel better if you just—"

"I'm in no condition to fight," Adam brushes her off. "If push comes to shove and this Loki guy takes over the earth, then I'll have to fight. But until then I'll just get in the way."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

"I'm just tired. Maybe if you'd asked me to fight six years ago I would have said yes."

Natasha stares at him with a cold eye for a moment. "You're sure about this?"

"My decision is made."

She closes her eyes and relents, nodding to show that she understands. She opens her eyes to ask a question; "What is that you're doing?"

"It's like a regulator," he mumbles, adjusting the strap and tubes connected to two small containers on his left bicep. "When I lose control of the carbon in my body… bad stuff happens."

"So I've read," she references his case file.

"Well, this just help me regulate it when I can't," he finishes, wincing a bit as he forces the needle part of the small machine into the back of his neck. He did not miss that ritual.

"Will you be hitching a ride from us then?"

"I suppose I will… I just need to check something first. I'll meet you down in the hangar."

Natasha nods and, without another word, strides out of the room. Just as she leaves, Fury re-enters.

"I found what's left," He says immediately, handing a small, flat, steel case over to Adam. It fits in the palm of his hand and feels cold to the touch.

Adam clicks the lock and the box pops open, revealing a small stack of photos from years ago. There's one of Rosa (Asteria, the assassin of the team who'd gone insane) and Tim (Cronos) at the beach under an umbrella. The one behind it is of Tim and Vanessa in Times Square waiting for the ball to drop. The one behind that is of Adam and Vanessa kissing at midnight as confetti sprays around them.

He closes the box and promises to look at the other photos later, and then tries to forget about them as he shoves the case into one of the bags on his belt.

* * *

"Son, just don't," Steve says to the pilot as Adam approaches from behind.

"Ay, you getting' trouble from the pilot?" Adam laughs as he stands behind the three people trying to board the plane.

"I don't think it'll matter," one man that Adam was not familiar with snorts.

"You must be Barton," Adam gestures to the man and his bow and arrows.

"Pleased to meet you," he bows his head as a gesture of faux courtesy. Adam smirks. He likes this man.

"Are we leaving or what," Adam continues, sounding impatient.

"Step aside, son," Rogers steps towards the pilot, who relinquishes the reins of the ship and gets off board. The four climb on board and take their seats.

"From our coordinates at the time of the attack, I'm assuming Banner fell somewhere in Brooklyn," Adam explains as Barton starts the ship up. "You guys can dump me somewhere around there."

The other three glance at him nervously for a moment.

"Are you sure this won't be futile?" Natasha questions.

"Futile or not, I've seen what this guy can do," Adam continues, referencing the Hulk. "You could use him."

"Why the sudden interest?" Natasha pries.

Adam stares at her for a moment as the plane begins to take off. "You hold the man in high regards but not the monster. They're the same thing."

She shifts around in her seat and doesn't reply.

"We're following Stark to Manhattan," Barton points out. Adam gets out of his seat for a moment to observe Iron Man streaming in front of them. What a douchebag.

"You were so adverse to fighting," Natasha continues. "What changed your mind about joining us?"

"I'm not joining you," Adam huffs as he reclaims his seat. "I'm finding someone to join you."

Natasha lets out a puff of air, as if she knows something he doesn't. "Still. I thought you'd jumped off the superhero bandwagon."

"I did. I'm just a guy with powers…" he pauses for a second to stare at Natasha, who has suddenly become fascinated with the toe of her boot. He wouldn't tell her, but it was the way she'd snapped at him earlier that'd changed his demeanor. It reminded him of when Vanessa had coaxed him into missions. "But if the world's going to hell, the least I can do is lend a hand."

"Hey, where are you guys going?" Stark's voices suddenly pierces the ships radio. "You aren't trailing me anymore."

"We have to drop Adam off in Brooklyn. He's going to try and collect Banner," Steve explains.

"Huh," Tony goes silent for all of a millisecond. "Have fun with that."

"Yeah, I'll try," Adam grumbles.

"We'll be over southern Brooklyn in two minutes," Barton calls out to Adam, who begins to take a stand.

"You don't have to land," Adam starts. "Just hover over a roof as best you can. I don't want to waste anymore of your time."

The plane begins to descend gradually as the cargo bay door opens. A rapid burst of wind penetrates the hull. Adam grabs a latch on the wall and peers down onto the city below. It's an awfully sunny day for a world invasion.

"Hey Natasha," Adam starts out of nowhere, still looking down on the buildings as Barton begins to hover. "When I was six, my parents got divorced and my dad got full custody. He was busy all the time so he hired a nanny to keep around the house to watch my sister and I. She was one of my best friends for the longest time, but she had this weird accent that we could never figure out."

"And I guess that's where you picked it up from," she responds blankly.

Adam looks back to the few members of the Avengers on board. Captain America and Black Widow nod in approval.

Then he jumps.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, sorry I went MIA for a while, I'm finishing up finals weeks so I was really busy. Now that I'm almost done, however, I think i can get back into regularly updating. **

**As usual, thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm also gonna try and draw a better picture of Adam now that Fanfiction has a Cover Art feature. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

The roof of the building is slightly more solid than he'd been expecting, so when his feet slam down on top of it, his knees give in and he falls foreword. He catches himself at the last second with his hands and remains in the kneeling position for a moment before rising again.

Bringing himself to his feet, he brushes some debris from his palms and then goes to check if his communicator is still working; "Can you guys hear me?"

"We hear you," Agent Barton's voice is heard over the com.

"Good," Adam continues, turning to see their plane ascending once more to take off towards Manhattan. "Better hurry after Stark's tail. He'll probably get all whiney if you don't rush to his aide."

Adam hears a snort on the other end of the communicator. "Will do."

Not watching to see the plane disappear, Adam wanders to the other side of the apartment building and leans over to address his options. He could opt to descend the fire escape and meander about the streets, but given his current mission, he realizes that that's probably not one of his better ideas. He doesn't want to spook civilians.

So he chooses option B; he'll stick to roof jumping for now. Hopefully, no one notices him and his "princely leaping" because that would surely lead to verbal harassment.

After some time of aimless climbing and jumping, scaling of random buildings, etc., it occurs to him that Brooklyn is bigger than he remembered. He was way out of his league, thinking he could find one man in a place so massive. Not to mention the fact that all he had to go by was a picture Fury'd shown him.

He lands slightly more gracefully on what looks like a storage warehouse and slides on the gravel. Taking a pair of compacted binoculars from on of the bags on his belt; he hopes he's at a high enough vantage point to scan the city.

As far as he can tell, there's a lot of traffic downtown, but nothing significant. He checks a piece of paper crumpled up in his pocket. He'd estimated the coordinates of a landing point, but the variety of several factors could have changed the numbers.

He lifts the binoculars back up to his eyes and peers off in the direction the coordinates led too. That was his best bet for the moment, so he could only hope he was in the near vicinity of his target.

Quickly scanning farther downtown to a less populated area, something strikes him as odd. Off in the distance, there's a set of seemingly abandoned warehouses quietly tucked in the shipping district.

He looks down at the coordinates written on the paper even though he'd already memorized them. Then he double checks again and again to make sure his memory wasn't fooling him.

Raising the binoculars back to his eyes, he squints in the direction of the coordinates. One warehouse in particular sticks out, however; the one with the giant gaping hole in the roof. Dropping the binoculars back into his belt, he stands motionless for a second, biting the loose, dead skin on his lower lip. Accidentally ripping it off, his lip starts to bleed, but only for a moment.

Hesitant for some reason, he continues bounding from building to building until he's gotten far enough away from the streets to slide down a wall and into an alleyway. He peeks around a corner to make sure no one is around, and then bolts across the street to where the suspicious warehouse is located.

Treading lightly, he scopes the place out. No one appears to be around, but his shoulders tense regardless. Not actually entering the building, he glances inside and up at the hole in the ceiling. A stream of light cascades through and bathes a crater full of debris and rubble in sunshine. He blinks, realizing that nothing is there. Perhaps the roof had just collapsed on itself…?

"What are you doing around these parts?" an older voice cracks behind him. He spins on his heels and, as he was trained, immediately expects the worst.

"Just looking around," he responds sternly, facing the old man and losing most of the fear he'd just felt.

"Just looking around," the old man repeats. He's skeptical, which makes Adam nervous.

"Just looking around," Adam answers once more for emphasis and also for lack of an explanation. The old man shrugs.

"Sorry but you won't be findin' anything around here."

Adam squints, prepared for an investigation. "Nothing at all?"

The old man gives Adam a side-ways glance, not phased by Adam's advance. "You with the military, son? Or do the young people always dress like that these days?"

"No," is all he responds with, investigative eyes nothing more than icy blue slivers.

"Nothing at all," the old man answers his original question.

"I'm not inclined to believe that," Adam snorts, detecting just a hint of fallacy in the his voice. The old man's got a broom in is hands which he uses to prop his aged hands on.

"You're inclined to believe whatever you like."

"Are you trying to trick me?" Adam continues, basing his questions on a hunch.

"We're just having a conversation, son."

"I'm not really up for a conversation," Adam rolls his eyes.

"Then I guess you'll find nothing interesting around here."

Adam glares daggers at the old man. What was he doing wasting his time here? The old man was probably senile and didn't know anything.

"Tch," Adam clicks his tongue in displeasure. "I'm out of here then—"

But just as Adam prepares to leave, something topples over around the corner, causing his ears to perk up for a moment. The muscles in his abdomen tense as his nerve endings jump. A little known fact about Adam: almost everything scares him.

"What was that, son?" the man continues like nothing had happened.

"What was that noise?" Adam turns to face the old man again, stepping closer to him and pointing around the corner of the warehouse to something he couldn't see.

"I didn't hear anything—"

"Listen, yah crazy old man," Adam starts, temper sliding away from him for a split second; he momentarily loses control and lets his power slip. "I'm done with yer games."

"There's no need for this to get out of hand," a new voice enters the conversation. The old man's head immediately turns behind him as a sign of warning to ward off the newcomer.

Adam takes a step away from the old man, his chest rising and falling quickly with the rapid beating of his heart. Adam reminds himself that he gets unnerved too easily.

"I've been looking for you," Adam finally speaks, slightly choking on his words. He flexes his fingers as a way to relieve tension.

"I can see that," Dr. Banner replies, standing on the other side of the old man. He's not even trying to hide the fact that he's staring at Adam's hands, which had covered themselves in carbon when he'd lost his temper.

Adam is slightly insulted by the unwanted attention, but can't seem to think of a way to respond to the doctor.

"And who are you?" Banner finally institutes a question.

"S'not important," Adam shakes his head, balling his hands into fists and letting the carbon shell recede. "I need to speak to you. In private."

"I'm assuming you're with S.H.I.E.L.D then," he states.

"Sort of."

"Then say what you have to say," Banner keeps calm, crossing his arms. Adam glances at the old man.

"Son, this man can't—" the old man begins speaking to Banner, only to be cut off.

"Go, it's ok," he nods to the man. "Thank you for the help, but I've got this now."

The old man looks to Banner, concerned, and then to Adam and back again. Adam assumes the old man trusts Banner to know what he's doing, because he eventually turns to leave.

"He was stalling for you to escape?" Adam asks, still slightly uneasy.

"It's funny how people will do that for you."

"Hilarious."

Banner seems slightly taken aback by Adam's demeanor, but is kind enough not to voice that distaste. Adam notices that his clothes are both too big and too small for him at the same time, but the doctor doesn't seem to mind; like he's used to it or something.

He also notices the height difference between the two. Adam is a tall man, so everyone is short to him, but for someone with such an intimidating reputation, he'd pictured Banner to be just a little bit taller.

"You said you were with S.H.I.E.L.D?" Banner finally prompts, awkwardly placing his weight on one leg.

"Sort of," Adam repeats. "I'm here on… special business."

"What sort of special business?"

"The kind where I get you to go join the Avengers and help them save the world or something."

Banner lets out an unexpected laugh, "Save the world or something?"

Adam sneers. "I think this is more serious than you make it out to be."

"I'm not saying it's not serious," his tone changes accordingly. "I'm just saying I'm liable to make more chaos than prevent it."

"I know that feeling," Adam rolls his eyes. "But they seem to trust you enough to help them in the fire fight."

"I'm betting they don't think I'll show up," Banner continues, more melancholy than stern.

Adam goes to reply, but just as he does, the communicator buzzes and he directs his attention towards that.

"We're on park and way," Natasha's voice hums.

"What took you so long? Did you stop for takeout?" Tony whines, just as Adam had predicted.

"You know what we were doing," Natasha replies, exasperated.

"Alright, I'm lining them up for you," Tony responds reluctantly. There's the loud thoom of gunfire and then an explosion. The communicator is overcome with static and ringing and Adam has to pull it from his ear before it shatters his eardrum.

"What's happening?" Banner asks, confused.

"It's started," Adam whispers, looking up to the sky for the army whose arrival was foretold.

"What?"

"You're right," Adam changes tactics, his attention returning to Banner. "They don't think you'll show up. In fact, they're certain you won't make it. So what are you gonna do about it? Are you gonna run away because you're afraid you'll lose control?"

Banner stands still for a moment, staring at Adam but not really looking at him. For a moment, Adam realizes he's being a hypocrite for telling Banner to get over his fear of himself when he can't even get over his own fear of himself.

He swallows hard and promises to cross that bridge later.

Banner squints at him for a second, as if to say 'how dare you?' but when he actually opens his mouth, Adam is mildly surprised by his reply.

"Let's go."


End file.
